


White Lies

by hannahindie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Dean x Reader, F/M, Implied Smut, Reader Insert, Supernatural - Freeform, han writes the thing, supernatural fanfic - Freeform, supernatural fanfiction - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 13:36:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16955052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannahindie/pseuds/hannahindie
Summary: The reader always looks forward to seeing Dean Winchester, and they fall into place every time they meet. However, a hunt that nearly goes tragically wrong may change both of their lives.





	White Lies

You didn’t know how you’d found yourself in this situation. Standing in the pouring rain, tears cascading down your face, watching the tail lights of the one person you’d counted on the most fading into the darkness. You weren’t sure when you went from being a priority to someone he just left behind, like you never mattered in the first place. When this day had started, you’d thought it might have been the beginning to something better, something worth the fight you went through every day. Instead, it had ended with yelling, words that neither one of you could take back, and the devastating thought that you’d seen the Winchesters for the last time. You let the rain wash over you as you stared down the dark and empty road. Your phone vibrated in your pocket, and your heart broke when you opened the message and saw three simple words from Sam.

_“I’m sorry, Y/N. -S”_

* * *

**Three Days Earlier**

You were organizing the myriad of lore books that had somehow found their way scattered around your house when the phone in your pocket started buzzing and interrupted you from your mundane chore.

“Y/N speaking,” you answered as you tucked the phone between your ear and your shoulder and continued picking up books.

“Hey! It’s Sam.”

You couldn’t help the smile that crept across your face as the familiar voice sounded from the other end of the line, “Hey Sammy, what’s up?”

He cleared his throat and gave you his normal response, “It’s Sam, Y/N. Just Sam.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, “Yea, yea, alright. What’s up, Sam?”

You heard the shuffle of papers and what sounded like a laptop snapping shut, “We’ve got a case near you, and I was wondering if you’d like to come with. We could use your help. We’ll be driving right by your place, if you’re up for it.”

You looked around at the mess of books and sighed, “Yes, please. I need out of here, anyway. When will you guys be here?”

“We’re getting ready to leave the hotel right now, so probably around three hours or so. We can grab something on the way, don’t worry about food or anything.”

You laughed, “Seriously? I’m not letting you get by on gas station pizza or whatever it is you’ll find out there. I’ll have dinner ready when you get here, alright?”

You could almost hear the smile in Sam’s voice, “Thanks, Y/N, appreciate it. See you soon.” The line went dead, and you grinned to yourself. It had been a few months since you’d seen the brothers, and although you texted back and forth fairly frequently, you’d missed them. This was a welcome surprise, and you were excited to get to hunt with them again.

You hurriedly restacked a few of the books to at least attempt to make the house look more presentable and hurried into the kitchen to see what you had. A quick look told you that there wasn’t enough food in the house for one Winchester, much less two, so you threw your coat on and made your way to the store, happy that you finally had someone else to cook for and especially happy that it was for your favorite men. 

* * *

Three hours later, the kitchen was filled with the smell of freshly baked lasagna and garlic bread. You were mixing the salad when you heard a knock on the door.

“Coming!” you yelled, wiping your hands on a dishcloth before running to answer it. You threw the door open and there stood Sam and Dean, both smiling widely at you, “Hey guys!”

Sam swept you into a giant hug first, and you almost disappeared in his large arms,”Hey, Y/N,” he pulled back and smiled at you, “How are you?”

You returned the smile, “I’m doing pretty well, it’s been quiet lately.” Sam nodded, and walked towards the living room, immediately making himself at home.

Dean sauntered in directly behind Sam, his smile bright, “Hey, darlin’, it’s been awhile.” He pulled you into him, and you couldn’t help but breathe in the smell of gun oil and leather, a scent that was purely Dean and one that you’d never forget. You felt his lips press gently against your forehead and for a moment you were worried he’d be able to hear how he made your heart race. You loved both of the Winchesters, but Dean…there had always been something about Dean.

His deep voice broke you out of your reverie, “Something smells damn delicious, Y/N. You really shouldn’t have.” You pulled back and looked at him, his green eyes sparkling in the afternoon sunlight coming in through the window, and smiled.

“Hey, anything for my guys. If it takes cooking up some lasagna to get you to come see me, I’ll keep doing it.”

“Lasagna?” He took off towards the kitchen, and you couldn’t help but laugh. By the time you’d made it in there, he was leaning over the still hot pan, his eyes closed, and a look of contentment on his face, “There is nothing better than your lasagna, Y/N. Keep this up, I might have to marry ya.”

Sam wandered into the kitchen, “World famous lasagna, huh? Need help with anything?”

You handed him a knife and gestured toward the counter, “Just finishing up the salad if you’d like to finish chopping the rest of these vegetables,” you glanced at Dean who was already trying to sneak a piece of lasagna out of the pan, “but you might want to hurry since your brother is trying to beat us to the entree.”

Dean quietly dropped the knife and sat down at the table, “You caught me, I can’t help myself. She’s right though, Sammy, maybe hurry up so that we can get this show on the road, huh?”

Almost a full pan of lasagna later, the three of you sat leaned back in your chairs, full and content.

Dean stretched, “That…that was great. You’ve outdone yourself again, Y/N.”

You smiled as you got up and began cleaning the table off, “You’re just used to eating gas station and diner food, but thanks for the compliment.” You tossed the dirty dishes in the sink, then leaned against the counter. “So, what brings you this way? Sam said you had a case.”

Dean nodded, “Yep, we think it might be a shapeshifter situation. Should be fairly simple, but we figured since we were this way we’d share the fun.”

Sam had left the room and returned with his iPad which he then handed to you, “There’s been three murders, and all three were supposedly done by people who were already dead. Witnesses put the deceased at the scene, but the police are claiming it’s just shock and that they don’t have any other leads.”

You scrolled through the police reports and paused at one of the crime scene photos, “That’s brutal, even for a shapeshifter. And why would they choose someone that is already dead? Doesn’t that kind of defeat the purpose?”

Dean shrugged, “The people it’s imitating had just recently died, so the shapeshifter must of have been watching them beforehand. We don’t know why, though, or why it’s as violent as it is. I mean, who can tell with monsters anyway? They don’t really need a reason.”

You scoffed, “Everyone has a reason for what they do, Dean, even monsters.” You went back to scrolling, “Are you sure it’s just the one shapeshifter?”

Sam nodded, “Yea, pretty sure. Why?”

You walked over to the table and sat down between Sam and Dean, “Look at this picture. The wounds are clean, probably pretty quick. I’d say it was done out of convenience, not to draw anything out or get any sort of pleasure out of it. But this one,“ you flipped to the next victims file, “is totally different. The shifter took its time, like it enjoyed it. This wasn’t clean or quick. Why would the same shifter behave in two different ways? Monsters are like serial killers; they stick with an MO, they don’t switch it up normally. So why did this one?”

Sam took the iPad and looked back through the photos, “I can’t believe I missed that. Good eye, Y/N.” You settled back in your chair, pleased with yourself. It wasn’t often that you could one up Sam. He was one of the smartest people you’d ever met, so you relished it when it happened. Dean glanced at you and winked, and you couldn’t help but smile back. God help you, he was going to be the end of you.

Sam stretched and tried to stifle a yawn, “It’s been a long day, and we’ve got an early appointment with the coroner tomorrow. I think I might head to bed.”

Dean glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, “I think I’ll stay up awhile longer, Sammy. See you in the morning.”

Sam looked between the two of you and rolled his eyes, “Yea, right. See you tomorrow.”

Dean waited until Sam was safely around the corner, and then he gripped your hips with his large hands and swept you from your chair onto his lap. “I thought he’d never leave.” One of his hands found its way into your hair and pulled you into him. His lips crashed into yours and you gasped at the intensity of it. You wrapped your arms around his neck, desperate to be as close to Dean as you could.

Every time the brothers stopped by, this is where you and Dean found yourselves. It didn’t matter if it had been months, you fell into each other like it was just something that was understood but never spoken. You’d always hoped that he felt the same way, that his heart raced at the sight of you, that he felt as breathless as you after that first kiss when you hadn’t seen each other for months. He never said anything though, and if Dean Winchester was anything, he was hard to read. You took the moments you could even if they were brief. You pulled back from him, your face flush, and smiled. His brilliant green eyes were lust blown and you could feel the familiar fire you felt every time he looked at you like that.

He ran his thumb along your jawline, his eyes locked with yours, “God, I’ve missed you. We gotta quit going months without seeing each other. Why do we do that, anyway?”

You smiled, “You Winchesters are always having to stop some sort of apocalypse, or put the devil back in his cage. It’s a little hard to work around.”

Dean chuckled, “You aren’t wrong.” He kissed you again, and his hands wandered down to rest on your ass. You shifted, purposely shimmying against the hardness you felt against your thigh, and he moaned into you. “Shit, Y/N,” he growled deeply as his lips traveled slowly down to the dip at your throat. He nipped along your collarbone, planting soft kisses at each spot, then moved back up and gently pulled your earlobe between his teeth. You groaned, gripping the short hair at the base of his neck, and dropped your head back to give him better access to your neck. You could feel him smile against you as he kissed his way back to your lips, his five o’clock shadow rough against your soft skin. His tongue slid slowly across your lips and you parted for him, letting his tongue move slowly with yours. You sucked his bottom lip between your teeth, then pulled back. He was breathing heavy and his freckles stood out in stark contrast to the flush across his cheeks. You wanted to thank God personally for each and every one of those blessed freckles and how artfully he dusted them across those perfect cheekbones.

“Get on the table,” he said lustily, already pulling his shirt off as he shifted you onto the floor and stood up.

You raised an eyebrow, “You mean, you want….like, right here?”

He nodded as he began to unbuckle his belt, “Yep. Right here. We’ve waited long enough, why bother going upstairs?” He pulled you against him and you quietly groaned at the feeling of his bare chest pressing warmly against you, “Unless you don’t want to-”

“Shut up, Winchester, and take off your pants.”

You smiled as he did what he was told, and your heart swelled as you realized that no matter where the two of you were or what was happening, you at least had these brief moments where you could be free of responsibility, free of hunting, free of all the heartache that seemed to follow you, and just be with each other. 

* * *

**Present day**

The ride back to your house was dead silent. For what could have gone wrong during the hunt, it did and then some.

You sat in the back of the Impala, grimacing at every bump that jostled your bloody and beaten body. You kept glancing up in the rearview mirror in hopes of catching Dean’s eye, but he was glaring through the windshield and purposely ignoring you. You leaned your head tenderly against the cold window and watched as the rain began to fall. Sam had not spoken either, although he had gently helped you into the backseat and then gave you a lopsided smile as if to comfort you.

You had been right; there were two shifters, and though one was your standard “just in it for the money and nice things” aspect the second one…well, that one had been hard to deal with. It was clever, full of hatred, and out for revenge. The hate it had for the Winchesters went back for years, and unfortunately for you, its sights had been set. These things always knew that the best way to destroy a Winchester was to destroy someone that they loved, and it had come after you with a vengeance.

You thought back to the moment you should have known something was wrong, the moment where you let your heart get ahead of your brain. 

* * *

**A few hours earlier…**

_You found the hiding places of both shifters and had already dealt with the one. You were proud of yourself; you had been able to sneak up on it and nail it with the silver knife before it had even realized what was happening. You were feeling so good about it that you had decided to split off from Sam and Dean, much to Dean’s irritation, but he had quickly shut his mouth when you threw a glare in his direction. That had been your first mistake. You knew better than to get cocky, and had you thought about the second shifter and how different it behaved than the first one, you probably would have reconsidered being by yourself._

_As you were circling the dark and abandoned power station with your gun drawn, you felt another swell of pride. You could tell Dean hadn’t wanted to let you go on your own, but it had only taken a look to shut down his normal “I have to protect you” speech, and you had to wonder if he finally realized that you could actually take of yourself. You hunted on your own on occasion; you knew what you were doing._

_A footstep behind you caught you off-guard and you whipped around, gun leveled at their chest, and then let out a sigh of relief when you realized it was Dean, “Don’t you know better than to sneak up behind a hunter when they’re actively searching for something that’s trying to kill them?”_

_Dean laughed, “Sorry, I thought you knew it was me. Find anything useful?”_

_You shook your head, “Nah, not yet. I saw a door over there though, we should probably go inside. It’s the perfect hiding place, dark and damp. Why do they always go for the most disgusting places?_

_He shrugged, “At least it isn’t a sewer this time.” You noticed that instead of having his gun drawn, Dean was holding a knife by his side. It glinted in the dim light._

_You nodded towards him, “Where’s your gun?”_

_He glanced down at his hand and shrugged, “I was thinking of taking the quiet approach.” He stepped towards you and you smiled gently at him, thinking of the past couple of nights. It wasn’t often that you had alone time with Dean, and you’d been able to sneak off two nights in a row. You’d felt a little guilty leaving Sam to research on his own, but the selfish side of you had relished the opportunity. Dean stopped directly in front of you and stared you down, a dangerous glint in his normally friendly green eyes._

_You raised an eyebrow, “What?” He put his hand on your hip and pulled you into him as if he was going to kiss you but stopped just short of your lips and smiled. It didn’t quite reach his eyes, and your chest tightened as you realized that something was wrong. “Dean?” you barely whispered. The hand holding the knife came up and pressed the silver blade against your collarbone. “Not Dean,” you thought to yourself in a panic. You tried to back up but you felt the shifter’s free hand close tightly around your wrist._

_He tilted his head and clucked his tongue, “Where do you think you’re going, Y/N? I thought you wanted to be the one to stop me, huh?”  He traced the knife across your collarbone and up your neck, the metal cold against your bare skin. You could feel the tip of the knife dimple the soft flesh right below your jaw. The hand holding your wrist slipped down and removed the gun that you were still gripping tightly and tossed it away from you. You heard it skitter across the parking lot and your heart dropped. “Awwe, sweetheart, it’s okay. I’m feeling generous today, and it’s been a long week. How ‘bout I make this real quick, just a quick swipe across your throat and we’re done? Deano is pretty frustrated with your choices this evening, so it’ll be especially bothersome if you get yourself killed. You made it far too easy, honestly.”_

_You glared at the shifter, allowing your anger towards yourself to combine with the hatred you felt for the creature and managed to shove him away from you as hard as you could. You tripped backwards and nearly fell on your ass but managed to stay on your feet. As you were flailing to keep your balance he thrust out quick and hard, and you cried out as searing pain traveled from the inside of your elbow down to your wrist. You looked quickly for the gun and finally spotted it about ten feet to your right. Just as you went to run for it, a fist connected with your jaw and you hit the ground._

_“I was going to make this easy on you, and then you had to go and do that,” the shifter growled as he grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked your head up so that you were forced to look at him. He glared at you for a moment and then your head rocked backward violently from the sudden blow he dealt. The pain from your body weight nearly ripping your hair out by the root brought tears to your eyes, and you choked back a sob._

_He forced you to look back up at him, and you stared at him with narrowed eyes, “If that’s what you call making it difficult I hate to disappoint you, but I’ve had worse,” you spat, your blood bright even on the dark asphalt you were kneeling on. The shifter smiled coldly down at you and your chest constricted at the sight of the face that you loved, the face that belonged to the one person you trusted everything to, looking at you as if you were an animal to be hunted._

_“Oh, I’m sure I can kick it up a couple notches.” He released the grip on your hair, but in the same movement kicked out as hard as he could._

_The air left your lungs as his boot connected with your ribcage, and this time you couldn’t stifle the sob that left you, “Dean…please…stop…” you begged breathlessly._

_He knelt down in front of you and tilted his head, “Oh, sweetheart, I might look like Dean, but I’m sure as hell not going to act like Dean. I’m not your hero, and as a matter of fact,” he closed his eyes and smiled, “I don’t think he wants to be your hero either. He’s got enough people to take care of. I’m not so sure you rank as high up on the list as you thought.” He patted you roughly on the cheek and then walked over to where the gun had landed and picked it up, “I was going to make this fast and clean, but I think killing you with your own gun seems a lot more satisfying now.” He cocked the pistol and leveled it at your head, “Anything you wanna get off your chest, last words, or maybe any confessions of unrequited love? Does ol’ Deano know how you feel? Come on, you’ve gotta have something to say.” You dropped your head to where your forehead rested on the warm asphalt and remained silent._

_“Hey, dick!” Your head jerked up in time to see the shifter turn and then a flash. Even though you knew it wasn’t really Dean, you felt a brief moment of panic as you saw the shifter hit the ground, chest bloody. You sat up slowly and saw Dean, still with the gun up, staring at the fallen shifter._

_Sam ran up beside him and slid to a stop, breathing heavily and his eyes wide, ‘Y/N, are you okay?”_

_You looked down at the deep gash running down your arm and chuckled weakly, “Eh, I’ve had worse. Although,” you said as you looked up at them, “are there supposed to be two of each of you?” Dean moved to inspect your arm and you automatically flinched away from him, your mind still on the shifter. Hurt flashed across his face as he backed away and you looked at him apologetically, “I’m sorry Dean, I didn’t mean-”_

_“It’s fine,” he answered gruffly, “Sammy, take care of her. I’ll deal with the body.” Dean strode off in the direction of the Impala and Sam knelt down beside you so that he could take inventory of your injuries._

_“You’re going to need stitches, and I’m pretty sure you probably have a concussion. Come on, let’s get you to the car and at least get the bleeding stopped, okay?”_

_You nodded weakly, “Sure. Is…is Dean okay?”_

_Sam looked back over his shoulder as he lifted you gently off the ground, “Yea…he’ll be fine. Come on.”_

* * *

Your thoughts were interrupted as the Impala turned down the gravel driveway that led to your house. The car slowed to a stop and Dean turned off the engine, although he didn’t make a move to get out. You slipped quietly from the back seat with your bag and slowly crossed in front of the Impala and towards the sidewalk that ended at your porch. Sam climbed out after you and followed you up to the steps. You sat the bag on the top step and turned to face the youngest Winchester, “Are you guys planning on staying the night? It’s pretty late.”

Sam turned toward the Impala and you saw Dean barely shake his head no before Sam turned back to face you, “Uhh…no, I think we are going to head back. Cas is waiting for us at the bunker.”

You tilted your head, confusion etched on your face, “You’re going to drive six hours in the middle of the night because Cas is waiting on you? Can he not wait until morning?”

Sam dropped his gaze to the ground, “Yea, he’s got a lead on a case, said it was urgent.” Sam may have been good at lying to everyone else, but he’d never been able to lie to you. You looked around him at Dean’s silhouette sitting in the driver’s seat, his hands still tightly gripping the wheel, and realized he was going to leave without even saying goodbye.

You looked back at Sam, “What’s going on? What’s wrong?” Sam looked at you, his hazel eyes concerned and his eyebrows furrowed, but remained silent.

You walked past Sam and squinted against the headlights, “What’s your deal, Winchester?” you shouted over the rain that was now hammering down. Dean sat still a moment longer, then flung the door open and climbed out. You stopped just short of the Impala’s hood and waited for him to say something.

“What do you want me to say, Y/N? You nearly got yourself killed tonight. You would have if I hadn’t been there to save your ass.”

You looked at him, baffled, “That’s what this is about? I make one mistake and you’re so angry at me that you’re refusing to even come inside, much less say bye to me? What the hell, Dean?”

He took a step closer to you, his hands balled into fists at his side, “One mistake?” he scoffed, “Try five, or six, or ten. It seems like I’m having to clean up after you every time we hunt together. You’d think that someone that hunts as often as you claim to would be better at it.”

It felt like someone had punched you in the chest. Dean had never spoken to you like this, and you weren’t sure what to even say. You could feel the tears threatening to fall, and you tried to hold them back as you locked eyes with Dean, “When have I…when did you have to clean up after me? I don’t understand…”

Dean rolled his eyes, “Do I really need to list them out? Poughkeepsie, or what about that time in Sacramento? Then there was the time in Milwaukee, that was a fun one. I could keep going, but do I really need to? Y/N, I like you. I do. But I’m tired…I’m tired of having to make sure you’re not getting killed. Tired of having these…these expectations every time we come through.”

You felt sick to your stomach as you realized what he was referring to, “Expectations? I didn’t have any expectations. But now I have to ask, was any of what we had…did I…” you nearly choked on the words you so desperately didn’t want to say “ **…am I significant or just convenient?** ”

Dean looked at you through the pouring rain, and for a moment you thought this wasn’t really happening. You were still laying in the backseat of the Impala, and this was a dream…no, a nightmare. But not real, because your Dean would never say those words to you, would never break your heart while you were standing in the pouring rain like some cliche chick flick.

“Y/N, I uh…I thought you knew what this was. I mean, it was fun. It was a nice distraction, but it was just…it was a nice way to blow off steam. I’m sorry.”

“Leave,” you said, barely loud enough to be heard, “I want you to leave.” You heard footsteps approach, and you closed your eyes as Sam’s large hand landed on your shoulder.

“Y/N…”

You jerked away from him and tried to ignore the look he gave you, “I said…I want you to leave. I never want to see either of you again. Just go!” Dean had already climbed back into the car and started it. Sam held back, torn between trying to talk to you and going with his brother.

“C’mon Sammy, let’s go,” Dean yelled from the car. Sam looked at you pleadingly, begging you silently to let him fix it.

“Just go, Sam. Please…just leave.” He sighed, then turned and slowly walked to the car. He gave you one last look before folding his tall frame into the passenger seat. Dean pulled out of the driveway and sped off, and you were left watching the tail lights fade into the distance.

_“I’m sorry, Y/N. - S”_

* * *

Dean was silent as he sped away from Y/N’s house, but he could feel Sam staring at him, “What?” he snapped.

“You know what,” Sam said quietly, his gaze finally shifting from Dean to look out his window.

“Leave it alone, Sammy.” Dean’s grip tightened on the wheel and he forced himself to keep driving towards home instead of turning around and going back to Y/N. It had nearly killed him to say what he’d said to her.

He wanted to tell her that he would save her every single time she needed it, that he’d be there to fix every hurt and soothe every nightmare. He wanted to tell her that she wasn’t just a convenience, that she was more than that. He wanted to tell her that when he found himself alone at night, he wished that she was laying next to him so that he could feel the warmth radiate from her as the gentle sound of her breathing soothed him after a tough hunt. He wanted her to know that on nights that he did get to stay with her, he barely slept. He barely slept because he couldn’t stop looking at how her freckles made constellations across her bare shoulders or how he was afraid that when he’d wake up she’d be gone. He wanted her to understand that he had never been all that impressed with other hunters, but watching her fight was almost mesmerizing to the point of being dangerous. She was a beautiful distraction and it took every bit of willpower he possessed to stay focused while she was with him.

Which is why he had to leave. He had heard her begging that shifter, had heard her wrecked voice begging _Dean_ to stop, and it was at that moment that he realized that even if it wasn’t him physically hurting her, it would always come back around to him. He would always be the reason she was in danger, and after Charlie and Kevin, Bobby and Jo and Ellen…he couldn’t live with that again. Especially not with Y/N.

So he had done what he had to do. He had destroyed her, throwing the most important relationship he’d ever had right back in her face, and then he’d walked away. He had lied to the woman he loved most in this world and left her alone in the rain, bloody and heartbroken.

And it would haunt him for the rest of his life.


End file.
